


Whiskey Soured

by truth_renowned



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: Peggy is gone on a dangerous mission and Daniel is not handling it well. From a tumblr prompt.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kar98k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kar98k/gifts).



His first mistake was stopping by Musso & Frank's for a steak after work. He was hungry for a good, thick slab of beef, and Musso & Frank's had the best for the price. The steak was delicious, medium rare, just how he liked it. The steak wasn’t the mistake. The three whiskeys he had with the steak was the mistake. Make that almost four, because he dumped half of one of them on himself after knocking it over on the table and the waitress brought him another. 

His second mistake was having two more whiskeys once he got home. Normally he wasn’t a drinker but tonight, he just couldn’t stop himself from pouring one more. And then another. He missed Peggy, and he thought drowning his sorrows in the smooth amber liquid would help. All it did was make him drunk, nauseous and more wistful. 

What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn't this sappy. He missed her, sure, but he was acting like a lovesick teenager. The thought made him even more nauseous. She'd been gone before, plenty of times. What was the big deal? What made this time different?

 _You were going to ask her to marry you, you big schmuck, that’s what’s different. And you didn’t get the chance before she left._

He’d had it all planned out. A nice dinner, a walk along the pier. He had the perfect place picked out to get down on one knee. Not too different from what he had planned with Violet. Maybe he shouldn't think about that one, since it was a complete disaster. At least he knew exactly where the ring was this time. He was just missing the woman. She got the phone call from Phillips and left almost immediately. She hadn't been gone that long. Just two weeks or so.

_Fifteen days, six hours and seventeen minutes, but who’s counting._

It was the first time they'd been apart more than a week since they’d moved in together. They were living in sin, she liked to joke. He was planning on taking the ‘sin’ part out, but suddenly she was on a plane for Belgium, into an unknown situation prompted by debatable intel. Maybe that's why he was wallowing in a drunken stupor. This was a big mission, the biggest since she’d gone to Russia with Jack, back when Dooley was among the living. She wouldn't tell him the details of this newest mission but he knew it had to be dangerous. 

She'd called early yesterday. She sounded tired, stressed and not much like herself at all. When he asked if she had been hurt, she brushed it off. He knew exactly what that meant: yes, she had been but she wouldn't tell him because he would worry. It was a dance they knew well: deny the pain so the other won’t be concerned. He was guilty of the same, more often than she was because of his leg. They both knew the other was lying but it was an acceptable lie.

At the end of the call, she told him it might be another few days before she could leave. He’d be able to handle a couple of days.

_Yeah, because you're handling it so well tonight._

“Shit.”

He sniffed the air around him and scowled. He smelled like a whiskey barrel. A sweaty, pathetic whiskey barrel. The drink he’d dumped went all over his pants, all the way through to his underwear. Even though he could stink to high heaven because he was alone, he didn’t want to. He did have some dignity left.

As he limped to the bathroom, he left various pieces of clothing in his wake. By the time he entered the bathroom, he was down to his trousers, which he promptly removed, along with his underwear. The prosthetic was next, his hands deftly working it off despite his drunken state. It was almost mechanical the way he unstrapped it. He’d bet money that he could remove it in his sleep.

His mind wandered, more like stumbled like he did into the shower, to Peggy again as he turned on the water. He’d never thought he could get someone so beautiful, so intelligent, so able to take down a man twice her size. 

_What a romantic thought. Maybe stick with the beautiful and intelligent part, Romeo._

She was both in abundance. He found her intelligence undeniably sexy. Since moving to Los Angeles, he’d met his share of beautiful women but many of them were as shallow as a wading pool. Peggy was everything he never knew he wanted until he met her. Sure, she could fight, but it’s when she used her brain that she really shined. Confidence and competence wrapped up in a smart and sexy package. How did he get so lucky?

He couldn’t help think of what they did the morning she left. It involved her and the bathroom counter. Little did they know when they bought the house that the marble counter was the perfect height for them to christen. There was something taboo about having sex in the bathroom. That’s just one more reason why he loved Peggy. She didn’t see it as taboo; she saw it as another adventure. He saw her as an adventure, one he looked forward to exploring every day. Just when he thought he knew everything about her body, he discovered a new freckle or a new way to make her squirm. That was his favorite, making her squirm. She was a woman who prided herself in always being in control. He had the ability to make her lose control, and he loved finding new ways to watch that control dissolve in a fit of moans and gasps.

As he stood under the spray from the showerhead, he felt his body reacting to his thoughts. His hand traveled down, stroking his dick with sloppy jerks. The more he thought of her, the harder he stroked and the harder he got. 

_Great. Pathetic, drunk guy jacking off in the shower. So original, Sousa._

Yet he didn’t stop. Images of Peggy flashed in his mind -- her writhing beneath him, touching him with her hands, her mouth, him touching her everywhere, kissing her everywhere. His hand moved faster, intent on nothing but release. He was so deep in his head, so in the moment, that he didn’t hear the front door open.

\---------

She closed the door behind her and dropped her duffel on the carpet. Although she’d told Daniel it would be a few more days, Phillips said the team leader would take care of the cleanup and paperwork. It wasn’t possible for her to be more grateful. She hopped on the first military transport plane she could get and eighteen hours later, she was finally home. She let out a loud sigh and smiled.

_Home sweet home. How I have missed you so. How I have missed Daniel even more._

Her smile turned into a wince when she moved her right hand. Her wrist was throbbing but it wasn’t broken, so that was a silver lining. She’d sprained it when fighting off a particularly strong and angry assailant. Ultimately she’d won but not before he had twisted her wrist almost to the point of no return. 

As she moved through the living room, the sound of the shower running became louder. It was awfully late for a shower. Maybe he got home late from work. They were lucky to find a home with a walk-in shower and a freestanding tub, making them both very happy. She couldn’t wait for a hot bath. It would be her first in more than two weeks. 

_Fifteen days, six hours and thirty minutes, but who’s counting._

As she approached the bathroom door, she took off her jacket and tossed it on the bed. A gossamer blanket of steam wafting around her as she entered the bathroom. He was in the shower, facing away from her with one hand planted on the tile and the other out of view. She leaned against the door jamb, admiring his muscular back and nicely toned arse. She smiled. He looked as good coming as he did going. As he turned to the side, she realized how much her statement was true. 

_Oh my goodness…_

His hand was wrapped around a very impressive erection. He roughly stroked himself, his hand almost sliding completely off only to jerk back to the base quickly. His eyes were closed, lips open in an ‘o’. Apparently she’d caught the tail-end of the show because within seconds, he moaned and lowered his head. He stood that way, hand still gripping his slowly fading erection for what seemed like hours.

She watched as he released the grip on himself, shook his head and picked up the bar of soap. He turned toward her but his eyes still were closed. She thought about leaving the room, never letting on what she had seen, but decided against it.

“I would ask what you were doing but I think that's quite apparent.”

His eyes snapped open. “Jesus Christ!” His hand on the tile slipped and he almost fell to the shower floor.

She rushed forward and reached out to help him, but he shooed her away. 

“Honest to God,” he mumbled, “this day couldn’t get any worse.”

“Me coming home early made your day worse?”

“No! No, I…” He stopped and his face went slack. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Suddenly, his cheeks bulged out and he lunged out of the shower. He got to the toilet just in time to lose whatever it was he ate for dinner. 

She scrunched her nose at the smell. 

_Make that whatever it was he_ drank _for dinner._

She shut off the shower, drenching her clothes in the process. He still was retching, literally hugging the porcelain, when she sat on the cold tile floor next to him.

“Just how much alcohol did you consume tonight?”

“Enough,” he choked out.

“To what? Kill a horse? Was it whiskey?”

He nodded weakly. She knew from experience that whiskey went down so smoothly but definitely did not come back up that way. 

She ran her good hand through his hair, curls still dripping wet. “Why did you drink so much? That’s not like you.”

“I don’t know,” he rasped. “You being gone so long, on a mission that…” He shrugged. 

She finished his thought for him. “A mission I might not come back from. I’m right here, Daniel. I came back. A little worse for wear, but I’m here.”

He looked up at her. “Are you okay?”

“In much better shape than you are.” She saw him eyeing the bandage. “It’s just a sprain. I’m fine, I promise.”

“I'm sorry… you had to see this,” he said softly, refusing to look at her.

“I'm not.” She brushed a few curls from his forehead. Despite her words, she knew he wanted nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow him whole. 

She stood up and held out her good hand. “Come on. Off to bed with you.”

He took her hand and let her help him up. He grabbed onto the bathroom counter and stood for a minute, trying to steady himself. “Need to brush my teeth.”

She nodded, then grabbed a towel and dried him off as best she could. Once he was done at the sink, she draped his arm around her neck and slowly walked him into the bedroom. She helped him onto the bed, where he immediately curled up on his side and grabbed the sheet, covering himself to the neck.

She stripped out of her wet clothes, leaving them in a pile on the carpet, and climbed into the bed. He was facing away from her, crowded toward the edge of the mattress. She stretched out on her side, propped up on an elbow, her fingernails lightly scratching his scalp. She knew it had a calming effect on him.

After nearly a minute, he turned on his back to face her. “Sorry, Peg. Wanted you coming home to be special.”

“It was.” She kissed him ever so lightly, nothing demanding, just something to let him know how much she missed him. Despite the mint of the toothpaste, he still tasted of whiskey. “You were here. That’s special enough for me.”

“Right,” he said with a harsh laugh. “I’m a mess.”

“Yes, but you’re _my_ mess.”

She smiled and this time, she turned her back to him but looked at him over her shoulder. He took the hint and spooned himself behind her, draping an arm over her waist. She took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. 

“Get some sleep, my messy love.”

His response was a short hum in her ear. Within minutes, he was softly snoring. It was music to her ears.

_How pathetic is that? You missed him snoring in your ear._

She snuggled her body closer to him and drifted off to sleep. 

The next thing she knew, it was morning. Turning over, she found she was in bed alone. She stretched her body and her wrist talked back to her, but she ignored it. First order of business was a shower. She hadn’t had a decent shower since before the mission. As she walked to the bathroom, she unwrapped the bandage from her wrist, noting the swelling had gone down and it was a lovely shade of yellow-green.

After snapping on a shower cap, she stepped inside the shower and turned the water on as hot as she could handle it. Standing under the spray, she let the pulsing water hit her aching muscles. It was minutes or it could have been hours she spent in the shower, but she finally decided she’d had enough. She shut off the water and turned around to see Daniel leaning against the bathroom counter, dressed in trousers and an undershirt. 

“Sorry, no show this morning,” she said, flicking off the shower cap. “I wasn't touching myself.”

He smiled. “That's okay. I'd rather be the one touching.”

“So would I.” She stepped out of the shower and started toweling off. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like I was hit by a train hauling whiskey.” He lowered his gaze. “I am so sorry that you had to see… all of that last night.”

“What? Watching you do the five-knuckle shuffle? Flog the bishop? Spank the monkey? And my personal favorite, polish the family jewels.”

“Peggy!” His cheeks flushed, as did the tips of his ears.

She laughed. “I've been on countless missions with the Howling Commandos and other soldiers. I know all of the slang. I also know that it's perfectly normal.” She smiled slyly. “Besides, it was incredibly sexy to watch. If you'd been in any shape to do it, I would have shagged you silly.”

“I didn’t mean you seeing that,” he said, still flustered. “I meant the part where I was throwing up a bottle of vodka.”

Her eyes widened. “You had an entire bottle?”

“No, no,” he said with a smile, “but I certainly had way too much. You deserved to have a decent homecoming.”

She slipped on her robe and tied the belt. “Daniel, I don’t need a ‘homecoming’. I don't want pomp and circumstance. I just wanted to be home, with you. Do you know what the best part about last night was?”

He shook his head.

“It was falling asleep next to you. Best night of sleep I’ve had in more than two weeks, and it wasn't just the comfortable mattress. Knowing you were within arm’s reach made me feel safe and happy. Very happy.”

She walked toward him, and he opened his arms to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head up. His lips immediately covered hers, and she opened her mouth to him. He responded, his tongue exploring hers with a barely contained enthusiasm.

_This is what I need. This is home. Wherever this man is, is home to me._

She broke the kiss, breathless but giddy. “The hardest part about the mission wasn't sleeping outside in the cold or eating K-rations. The hardest part was missing you. Every minute of those two weeks, I wanted so badly to be here with you. This time away made me realize that this is where I belong.”

Abruptly, he pulled away from her and quickly walked out of the bathroom. “Wait here.”

“What are you--?”

“Just stay there!”

_What in the bloody hell was that? What is he doing? Is he going to throw up again?_

He rushed back into the bathroom. “I had this grandiose plan to do this right but I can’t seem to handle that. It’s not the most romantic, but I want to do it right now, before something happens to derail it again.”

Instinctively, her hand went to her hip. “Do what, Daniel?”

Using the counter as leverage, he lowered himself on his good knee, then dug something out of his pocket. A small gold box. He opened it to reveal a simple diamond ring with a gold band.

“I love you, Peggy Carter,” he said, looking up at her with the softest of expressions on his face. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't blink. She couldn't move. It was like a dream, though she was pretty sure she wouldn't dream of Daniel asking her to marry him in the bathroom while they're both half-dressed.

_He's asking you to marry him. Say something! Do something!_

She did the only thing she could think of. Not trusting her voice, she nodded and let him put the ring on her finger. Then she lifted him up by his arms and kissed him, her enthusiasm not at all contained.


End file.
